Walking down the stairs was an interesting experience this morning, I felt like I’d run a marathon, not the short loop that I actually had. The dull pain in my achillies was back. I didn’t feel like eating breakfast today, the scales indicated that this was a good idea. I should have left the second baked potato last night.


The van in front of me as I got onto the motorway was being driven very erratically. At first I thought the driver didn’t know where they were going. Then once we got on the motorway I thought that he might be falling asleep. Regardless of the cause I didn’t want to be it. I pulled back a bit but then realised that if they did have an accident it would happen right in front of me. I waited until it was clear and got past the van as soon as I could. I have no desire to be involved in an accident.


I limped up to the physio and presented myself at his door. I went through to sorry tales of my recent run walks and the subsequent pain and suffering after. He seemed reasonably happy with the situation and felt that the “discomfort” I was feeling was to be expected. That didn’t stop him sticking needles into my foot and then leaving me alone with my thoughts for twenty minutes> I felt a little cheated by this. I felt that he should have entertained me whilst I laid there looking like a porcupine.


I didn’t go for a swim today as I’d been for my Physio appointment. I should have gone for a swim, it would have been a much better use of my time.


Who drives a wide load that takes up two carriageways down the motorway during peak periods? It was in front of me and travelling at a frustratingly slow speed. I didn’t want to be on the motorway. I wanted to be home.


We went to a country pub that had pretensions of being a prestigious restaurant tonight. We were having a meal with by brother and his wife and they had suggested this pub. The bar area looked like a normal pub but the rest of the place way laid out like a restaurant.  I should have realised when I looked at the menu. It looked like normal pub food but there were more words that I’d normally expect. I went for the beetroot starter as it looked nice from the description and everybody else had ordered the asparagus starter. The picture in my mind’s eye was not what arrived. I’ve never seen beetroot quite so small, cowering on such a large plate. I had chicken for the next course, from the description it looked like it came with a mound of vegetables. It came with a small specimen of each vegetable mentioned in the description. I felt cheated. I may be at odds with many people but I do feel that there should be more vegetables than meat on a plate. At least the dessert was as described, it’s hard to go wrong with a tart.


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